


Knock, Knock

by Bogganheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel Takes Things Literally (Supernatural), F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogganheart/pseuds/Bogganheart
Summary: When Castiel takes things too literally, Dean tends to end up the butt of the joke. Not quite understanding the concept of privacy, Cas surprises Dean in increasingly embarrassing and compromising situations.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Knock, Knock

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, I took way too much pleasure in embarrassing the hell out of Dean. Enjoy the goofy fluff!

Castiel tended to take things a bit too literally sometimes. Things that were so incredibly obvious to Dean, simple sayings that he wouldn’t even think twice about, turned into horrifically embarrassing misunderstandings. Sam, however, found it hysterical… especially Dean’s frustration. After each new incident, he would crack a cheesy joke like, “Don’t tell him to draw the curtains… he’ll grab a sketchpad.” Dean’s ears would turn a little red and he’d half-heartedly snap, “Shut the hell up, Sammy.”

This time was bad. It all started in a cheap motel room with peeling wallpaper on a Monday night. Dean relaxed under the hot spray of the shower, thanking whatever powers that be for decent water pressure. Getting knocked around by that damn wendigo earlier left him exhaustingly sore all over. What he needed tonight was a long shower, a shot of whiskey, and at least two bucks pumped into the Magic Fingers. Closing his eyes, he massaged shampoo into his scalp and sighed. He nearly slipped and broke his ass when, out of nowhere, a deep voice called through the moldy, translucent curtain.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean wouldn’t admit it later, but he yelped. Sticking his head out the side, he glowered at the angel. “What the hell, Cas? You need to learn how to knock.”

Castiel frowned to himself and nodded after a moment. “There is a situation…”

“No, Cas. No,” he shook his head in frustration. “You’re going to go out into the room, you’re going to fill Sammy in, and I’m going to rinse off and come out in a minute when I’m not naked and don’t have soap dripping into my goddamn eyes.”

“My apologies,” Cas replied as he walked out of the steamy bathroom.

————————-

Thursday brought another city, another case. When chatting up locals at the bar didn’t catch Dean the lead he had hoped for, he decided to call it a recreational night. Sam had already headed back to the motel, wanting to do some online research on local ghost lore and there was a particularly curvy brunette a few stools down clearly interested in what Dean had to offer. A couple of drinks and some meaningless flirtation later, he was pressing her against the hood of the Impala, her legs wrapped around his back.

Sloppily kissing and groping each other, they managed to stumble their way into the back seat. She moaned as he gently bit the sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met and pulled the hem of his shirt up until he got the hint. Shirtless and smirking, he leaned down towards her and murmured, “I believe you’re a little overdressed for this party, sweetheart… let me help you out there”. He pulled off her thin tank top and deftly unclasped her bra, admiring the rose tattooed on her flat stomach. Just as he took a nipple between his teeth, there was a quiet rapping sound on the dashboard.

“Hello, Dean.”

Jerking his head up in surprise, Dean saw Castiel sitting calmly in the front passenger seat, hand behind the bench-seat so he could turn around to greet him. If he had any reaction to the half-naked pair in the back, he kept it to himself. He blinked and waited patiently for a response like this was a completely normal situation. The woman shrieked and slapped Dean hard in the chest, scrambling out from under him. He was frozen, red-faced and stunned.

“I don’t know what kinda freaky shit you may be into, buddy, but I’m definitely NOT the girl for it,” she huffed in outrage and she threw her tank top back on and shoved her bra in her back pocket. Flinging open the door she stormed out of the vehicle and back towards the bar, yelling. “You two are fucking creeps, yaknow that?”

Dean stared at Cas, completely dumbfounded and pretty damn furious. “Cas, man, seriously… what the hell were you thinking? You can’t just… You can’t just pop up out of nowhere like that!” He ground his teeth in annoyance but he just couldn’t hold onto it. That furrowed brow and confused, sad eyes made him feel like he just kicked a puppy. A big, stupid puppy wielding all the power of heaven to fluster Dean any chance he could get without even realizing it. “Dammit, don’t give me those eyes! You’re worse than Sam,” Dean grumbled as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head. “Come on, we can go back to…” his words cut off when he saw Castiel had disappeared.

“Son of a bitch.”

———————————-

Dean shouldn’t have had that burrito. Sam warned him, and, goddammit, he was right. He had been locked in the bathroom, clenching his cramped guts for at least 20 minutes. Clearly, the stomach of steel was starting to show its age. Resting his head in his hands, he sighed. He suspected he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Sam would have to follow up on the lead from the historical society alone tonight. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the tile wall in front of him.

Dread seized Dean’s heart as a gravelly voice spoke up, “I wanted to apologize for…”

Eyes wide with panic, Dean almost shouted, “Fuck, Cas! Outside! Wait outside!” He scrambled to cover himself with his arms and desperately wished the lousy fan in this bathroom worked ten times better. Cas blinked out as fast as he had appeared and Dean imploded with mortification. Of all places, of all ways… he would never be able to look the angel in the eye again. He cursed the burrito, he cursed himself, he cursed Cas for just not understanding. Eventually, his stomach settled. It took him another five minutes to collect himself before he could bring himself to open the door. Squaring his shoulders, he strode out, determined to take it like a man.

“Cas…” he started, tone serious and stern. But Castiel leaped off the bed and started pacing, distressed and offended.

“Dean, I don’t understand. You told me I needed to learn to knock. I have been knocking and you grow more agitated each time. I thought, perhaps in the car, I had not knocked loud enough as you were… preoccupied. But I know you heard me this time and still… What did I do wrong, Dean?” Exasperation radiated off of him and his eyes bore into Dean’s, steely and probing.

It suddenly clicked and Dean’s anger deflated into exhaustion. “No, Cas… you’ve got it all wrong.” He raised his hands to pacify the responding glower. “I wasn’t clear enough. I’m sorry. When I said that you needed to learn to knock, I didn’t mean that literally, man. I meant that you needed to learn the boundaries of privacy. That sometimes people don’t want someone else just burst in or popping in or whatever. If someone is in the bathroom in any way and they haven’t specifically invited you in, you wait outside. Knock to let them know you’re there. If someone’s about to or in the process of getting laid, you don’t just drop by. Well,” he winked, “unless you are explicitly invited to be part of the fun.” Dean rubbed a tired hand across his face. How many things would he still have to explain? How many more times will it be such a mess?

Castiel squinted in analysis. “So then, when one is engaged in acts of hygiene, elimination, and sexual activities, it is inappropriate to be in the same room… or vehicle… unless specifically invited. Is that correct?”

Dean nodded in relief. Finally, he understood. His humiliation may still last a lifetime, but maybe, just maybe it won’t get any worse.

“Then I truly must apologize, Dean. I have behaved very inappropriately this past week, accident or not. I am truly sorry.”

Dean shrugged and let himself collapse on one of the twin beds. “It’s cool, man. I think I need to sleep this off, Cas, but if you wanted to hang around, Sammy could really use some help taking care of a salt-and-burn tonight. He’s getting supplies at the Quickmart right now.”

Castiel nodded with a small smile and disappeared.

——————————————-

Two weeks later, Dean finally got an afternoon all to himself. They hadn’t picked up on any new cases yet and Sam wanted to take the time to catch up on weird foreign films at a local “cinema”. Not really up for going out just yet, he decided to enjoy a little quality entertainment of his own. Sprawled out on the motel mattress, he found Casa Erotica 8 on their pay per view listing. He’d seen it before, but the busty blonde got him every time. Slipping his boxers off, he stroked himself lazily to her moans as a muscular man took her from behind. He shut his eyes as he imagined her writhing beneath him, breasts bouncing, biting her own lip to hold back a scream.

The hazel eyes staring up at him kept morphing into an all too familiar piercing blue and the soft curves turned into hard planes. This wasn’t the first time Castiel had crept into his thoughts like this, although it had been a while… basically since that last embarrassing incident. He had dreams: feverish, tangled dreams filled with strong hands and hot mouths. Fiery passionate clawing at each other dominated these fantasies, years of burning need seeking release. The harder he fought it, the more insistent the images. Eventually, he began giving in. Just because he wanted it didn’t mean anything had to change. No one needed to know. So he quietly stroked himself in the middle of the night while Sammy snored or in the shower during his brother’s morning run. It relieved the tension a bit. Cas had done so much already, he could never burden him with this.

Reaching into his duffel with his free hand, Dean grabbed a bottle of massage oil and slicked up. It felt so much better than traditional lube or moisturizer, a trick he learned from a masseuse he slept with years ago. Stroking slowly with his eyes closed, he teased around the underside of the crown, imagining Castiel’s soft lips wrapped around his cock. He groaned as he picked up speed and tightened his grip, picturing the angel eagerly trying to take all of him in. The sounds of the porn stars had faded into the background, completely forgotten. One hand grabbing onto the headboard, he stroked vigorously and moaned out Cas’s name. Everything tightened and his muscles shuddered. He was so close.

“Yes, Dean?”

Terror. Absolute terror. The last time Dean was so afraid, he had ghost sickness. But that wasn’t real and, oh god, this was. Castiel stood at the side of the bed, taking in the entirety of Dean’s naked body… his cock hard in his hand, the sheet twisted in his grip. Dean’s pulse pounded in his ears and it took a beat for him to regain his senses enough to hide.

Throwing the cheap polyester blanket over his lap, he fell back on the bed and covered his face in shame. What could he even say? Everything was over.

“Dean.” Castiel tried to get his attention, his voice strangely rougher than usual.

He muttered dejectedly from beneath his arm. “I thought I told you, not during sexual activities. Fuck.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, like a confused bird, and reached out to trace his fingers across the forearm covering Dean’s face. “But Dean, you invited me.”


End file.
